Survival of the Fittest
by Lucky Seven
Summary: Raph is forced into the unlikely position of caregiver for a girl unwilling to accept his help. Rated R for language and adult themes. I don't know what's going in with the HTML, but I'm working on it. Previously published under the name Konstantine.
1. Chapter One

Author's Note: Okay, so I changed the main character's name. I just like the new name a lot more for her.  
  
  
  
I hate my life. I want to die.  
  
That's all that was going through me head as I colapsed against the alley wall, the contents of my stomach flashing before my eyes. No, not flashing; splattering is a better word. At least it didn't get on my clothes. It was only an hour and a half into the night, and I was already shitfaced enough to be out there, emptying my guts. I wasn't surprised though. An hour and a half of Bacardi 151 and most people would be passed out. That sick little fact made me proud.  
  
After I finished heaving, the skin of my throat raw, I collapsed against the flaky brick wall, turning my head to the side and pressing my cheek against the cool surface. I felt like shit, mentally and physically. My stomach had kept on contracting after there was nothing left there, like it couldn't accept that there wasn't anything else in my body it could get rid of. But, more then that, I felt sorry for myself. I knew that the minute I went back in there, they would yell at me for not holding my liquor, and having to come outside to throw up. Usually, people just threw up on the floor and kept on moshing. Or snorting or shooting up or drinking or fucking or whatever it was they were doing beforehand. But I never could never throw up in front of people. No matter how skilled I was at everything else, I never could puke in public. That and crying were the two things I hated to do more then anything.  
  
Also, I was sad that no one was out there holding my hair back from my face. It seems small, but I had thought about it, in one of my few moments of coherant thought. Not that it would have mattered, I didn't have enough hair for it to get in my way. But whenever people puke in the movies, there's always someone there that rubs their back, looks worried, and holds their hair back from their face. In my mind, the person that did that for me would love me. It never occurred to me that someone would have to know who I was before they even noticed I'd run outside to puke, which they'd have to do to come out fulfil my unloved little fantasy.  
  
I almost never remembered my nights. If I woke up at home it was because someone had picked me up off the floor and carried me there. And, as you probably have a good idea of the people I consort with by now, there isn't anyone who'd do that for a total stranger out of the kindness of their heart. No one had kindness in their hearts, and if they did they sure as shit weren't wasting it on me. I spent a lot of nights on that alley wall, or in my very own corner of the club. I'd been going there for five years, ever since I first came to New York when I was sixteen, and by now the bouncers knew how deeply I slept. They used to take me into the club owner's office and let me sleep there; a service to which none of the other homeless bums were extended. I guess even through the piercings (ten, nine of which are on my head) and tattoos (just two, a celtic knot in the small of my back and an inch wide band of celtic design around my bicep) a tiny, skinny, sleeping sixteen year old looks vulverable. I swear, the nicest guys I've ever know were those bouncers. But even that wore off after I slept all day, woke up, puked on the couch, and head downstairs to start all over again every night. Then they just let me sleep where I fell. I never got mad about it, I just figured a roof over my head was gift enough.  
  
But that night, that night I met Raph, I was feeling really bad. I curled up in a little ball, hugging my knees, and cried. It was all I could do not to scream out loud, but I kept it in. In my head I knew I wouldn't scream, so I just thought about it. After a few minutes, a hard, dark voice peirced through my sobs.  
  
"Finally, someone with a shittier life then mine."  
  
I sniffed hard, as if that would get rid of the tears right then. I didn't pick up my head, because I didn't want whoever it was to see me. None of the punks inside knew my name, I was just the twenty-one year old burn out who was always there. Still I didn't want them to see my face. My golden reputation and all. "You're welcome for the pick-me-up, now fuck off." My voice sounded raw.  
  
"Aren't you scared? It's dark, we're in an alley behind a club where no one could hear if you called for help, and even if they did, I doubt they would care. There's no one on the streets at this hour." He said.  
  
I hadn't occurred to me to be scared before, and even now that it did, I wasn't. I should have been, and God knows that if Raph had been there to rape or kill me I would damn well be raped and killed. Even if I was in my right mind, I don't think this would have gotten through my apathy. "If you wanted to hurt me, you'd have done it. If you want to rape me. go for it. I haven't gotten any in ages."  
  
"But then it wouldn't be rape, would it?"  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ, are you trying to scare me? Is that it? Don't be cryptic and mysterious with me you fucking jackoff. I couldn't care less. Go waste your time with someone who would care if they died." I sat up. I couldn't care less about this punk seeing my face now. My depression was replaced by anger. I don't know what I'd have done if he'd actually wanted to fight, but the people inside usually steered clear of my temper, so I was convinced that it had some kind of power. I usually didn't want to die, no matter what I said, but the devil-may-care bit scared people off. Hopefully this one was just as much like all the other human beings I've ever met, and would fall for it.  
  
***  
  
Raph leaned against the wall behind him, studying this girl in front of him. He hadn't meant to say what he had said, but that was how it came out. Now he had no idea what to say. She was waiting for an answer to her question, but he didn't know how to answer. He knew her better then she had any idea.  
  
He'd first come to the club after a fight with Leo, and, after hearing the music, had stayed. She'd come out to throw up only a few minutes after he arrived, and, because there was nothing else to look at, he watched her. He couldn't see her face, even after she colapsed against the wall and dropped her head into her hands. She wore a lot of beat up black leather, her hair dyed dark, dark red. Maybe black, he couldn't see from there. Her clothes hung off her bony frame, the dark fabric a shock against her pale skin. She looked sick, pathetic, and oddly vulnerable for a person in that much black leather. She'd stuck in his mind for some reason, and he's thought about her the entire next day, making up little scenarios for the two of them to meet. He thought that someone as obviously fucked up as that wouldn't care if they were to meet a giant turtle. He went to the club the next night, and the next, and, after he realized she ended up in that alley every night, he only went to see her.  
  
It was a strange fascination that he had with the girl. He wasn't attracted to her in the least. The notion had crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. She was competely asexual to him - like a child. No, attraction wasn't it. His heart simply went out to her for some reason. Sometimes he stayed all night because he wanted to see where she lived, but she never left. The only times she left were when someone carried her out. He became very protective of her, because it was so very obvious that she couldn't, or maybe just didn't, care about herself. In the last month, he'd decided that he came to see her every night because, in his mind, she needed him. There was no one else that needed him. In fights, his brothers depended on him to do his part, but that was where it ended. They needed Leo's leadership, Mikey's comic relief and sensitivity, and Donny's brain, but the only thing he did, other then fight with punks on the street, was fight with Leo, and they didn't need that. But this girl, she had no one to take care of her, she had less love then he did.  
  
That's why he had been so apprehensive about talking to her. Maybe she'd turn out to be the kind of independent, strong woman who didn't need anyone, or maybe he find out that she had a multitude of friends and a huge, caring family. His illusions concerning her were fairly extensive, and he didn't want them shattered.  
  
But that night it was different. Her sobs weren't just the tears and moans that they usually were. They were heartwrenching, and were tearing him up inside. So he had soundlessly let himself down to the alley floor, not five feet from where she stood. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he couldn't let her sit there anymore. And what came out of his mouth had been more insulting then he wanted to admit.  
  
"Well?" she demanded. For the first time he noticed her piercings. He'd never been close enough to see them before. Three in each ear, one in her nose, her eyebrow, and, when she spoke, the flash of a tongue stud, all filled with thick silver jewlery. They only displayed the angularity of her face even more then was obvious.  
  
"I've seen you before."  
  
"You said that already."  
  
Raph was silent. This wasn't how their first meeting had been inside his head. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.  
  
"Throwing up, genious. Are you blind?"  
  
"So early in the night? Lightweight." He said, with a snort of derision. As far as she knew, he didn't care about her, and if he started being nice after the precident that had been set so far for this conversation, she'd think he was crazy. So he treated her the way that came most naturaly - coarsely.  
  
"Fuck you, you bastard. You don't know a thing about me, especially not my ability to hold my liquer. You probably couldn't throw back the alcahol I put away in half an hour without passing out. Lightweight my ass." She sat back against the wall, not trusting herself to stand without making a fool of herself. Whatever dignity she had left she planned to guard with her life.  
  
"Yeah right. I could drink you under the table." He said.  
  
"I plan to go in soon for some of the hair of the dog that bit me, and I'd take you up on that little challenge, but I figure a freak like you, hanging out behind a club instead of inside it, waiting to prey on the weak and puking, wouldn't take me up on it." She spit back into his face.  
  
He bristled at the freak comment, but calmed himself down, knowing that she couldn't mean it as an insult as to his state as a mutant, because she didn't even know about it. Yet. "Yeah, that's it. If you're an example of the kind of people in there, I'd rather stay out here."  
  
"You and me both." She muttered, turning her head away. Apparently she didn't care that she was having a conversation with a disembodied voice.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, the edge to his voice softer.  
  
"What does it mean? Fuck. I don't know. But if everyone in there is just like me, the world's better off without them."  
  
Not wanting her to realize they weren't fighting anymore, he said "Really?"  
  
"Like it's a big surprise."  
  
"I thought they were your friends."  
  
"No, I don't know anyone in there, save the bouncers, and we're hardly what you'd call friends. They just know they can't get rid of me. I'm like a shadow in there. They see me, but you wouldn't talk to me for the same reason you wouldn't strike up a conversation with a wall. I'm as constant as anything." She coughed, and he flinched as he heard it rattle in her thin chest. "They're just a bumch of dumb punks."  
  
"They're dumb punks?"  
  
She looked confused, then looked down at her clothes, absentmindedly touching the bar through her eyebrow. "Oh, all this. I'm no punk. I don't have a subculture. None of them would have me. Those people are angry for no reason, and just want to let off steam. They just want to piss people off."  
  
"So why do you stay?" he asked.  
  
She shrugged "I've got nowhere else to go. This has been my home, more or less, for five years. I don't think I've even left this area in that long. These may not be my friends, but they aren't my enemies."  
  
"And the rest of the world is?"  
  
"Yeah, it is. The happy people don't look kindly on skinny, sickly, drug addicted, alcaholic burn-outs who didn't even finish high school. They'd take one look at me and send me packing." She said, as if just stating facts. She said it all so steadily, as if it were just the norm.  
  
"So you're just going to keep on like this for the rest of your life?"  
  
"The rest of my life? There's a funny concept."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"The past years have all been one long nighttime, and the coming years, if there are years left for me, will just be that same night streached out for longer. Time doesn't affect me anymore."  
  
He stayed quiet, absorbing it all. He hadn't expected her to be so aware of how things were. She was so resigned, as if there was nothing she could do about the way things were, and she'd accepted it.  
  
"Hey, what's your name?" she asked, after a few silent minutes.  
  
"Raphael." He answered. She didn't ask for a last name.  
  
"I like that." she said "It's. I dunno, not like anything else. I'm Auda."  
  
"Nice to meet you." He said, at a loss for anything else. He liked her name. It was strange and melodic. It didn't belong in the world, just like the two of them.  
  
She smiled, the first time he'd seen her do so. It looked like an expression she wasn't used to making, it was unfarmiliar on her face. "I don't think anyone was has even said that to me."  
  
"So, Auda, you say you have no where to go but here? No family or anything?" he asked.  
  
"No family. Not that I could go to anyway."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Number one, because none of them live in New York. Number two, we have a mutual agreement of no contact. They don't want to see me, I don't want to see them. End of story."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What is this? Twenty questions? Get off it." Using the wall as support, she pushed herself into a standing position, her guard up. "Who the fuck are you anyway? Who the fuck comes down into alleys and talks to random people?"  
  
"I do." He answered.  
  
"No shit." She unsteadily walked back to the door "Go away, just get the fuck away." She said, opening the heavy door and stepping inside, the music blasting from inside. Without another word, she let it slam behind her.  
  
Raph leaned back against the wall, staring at the door as if expecting her to come out again. The alley was much darker and emptier now that she'd gone inside. Turning into the breeze, he walked toward the mouth of the alley, his mind full of foreboding thoughts. She was somehow both everything and nothing of what he had expected. He had the disturbing feeling that something had been set in motion tonight that would change his life forever. 


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Note: I don't know if this is against fanfic rules, but I changed the main character's name. Faith is now Auda. I just saw that word somewhere and it resonated with this character. Read on!  
  
Raph walked through the sewers, almost home from the club. He hadn't gone straight there; he'd walked around the city for almost an hour, thinking over this latest situation he'd found himself in. He knew it wasn't going to go away, no matter what he did. He couldn't stop himself from going back there; it was as if she'd put a spell on him. He had to go back, if only to make sure she hadn't died. That thought threw him for a loop the minute it passed through his head. What if she did die? No one in that club cared about her, what would they even do with her body? Would there be anyone at her funeral? He felt a shiver go up his back, and he quickly banished those thoughts from his head.  
  
Reaching the door into the lair, he paused. He could hear his brothers in there, talking about him.  
  
"I hate when he does this." Leo's voice.  
  
"Yeah. He knows it too." Don replied.  
  
"It's just the way he lives. It's not like he's hurting anything by. doing whatever is he does out there." Mikey came to his defense. Quietly, as if he didn't even believe it himself, he went on "He's got things on his mind."  
  
"What things? Did he say something to you?" Leo asked.  
  
"No, he hasn't. But I can tell. He's been distant recently. More so then usual. There's something going on."  
  
"I've noticed too." Don said. "There have been days when he hasn't said a word to me. Not a word. Do you think he's angry at us?"  
  
"No. If he were pissed at us, we'd know it. He's not exactly shy with his temper." Leo said, a bitter laugh in his voice.  
  
There was silence for a minute, then Mike spoke, his voice quiet "I think he knows I'm there for him, I mean, he's confided in me before, but I wish he'd take advantage of that. He just keeps so much inside."  
  
"Mikey the therapist." Don chided.  
  
"Seriously! I don't want to ask him about it. But I want him to talk to me." Mike said, his voice tinged with sadness. Raph hated that he caused his brother pain, but what could he do about it? He wasn't going to go against his own instincts, that is, to keep what hurt him to himself, just to make Mikey feel better. Mike would get over it. He always did.  
  
Deciding enough was enough, Raph stepped into the lair, surprising his brothers. They looked up at him with guilt in their expressions. Raph pretended not to have heard a word of their conversation. "Hey guys."  
  
"Hey Raph. Where've you been?" Leo asked, trying, and failing, not to sound patronizing.  
  
"Leo, in the millions of times you've asked me that, have I ever answered?" Raph asked. When he received no answer, he said "That's what I thought. G'night guys." Quickly exiting, he stepped into his room, shutting the door behind him, thankful to be away from their prying eyes. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he navigated his way to his bed, kicking aside the things in his way. When his toes hit the edge of the mattress, he sank down onto it, grateful to just let his muscles relax. Lying on his stomach, his arms crossed under his head, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, hoping his dreams would be less eventful then his night had turned out to be.  
  
Unfortunately, sleep eluded him. After ten minutes, he resignedly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness in the room. His brothers must have gone to bed; he couldn't hear them talking anymore. Don had been right earlier; he did know how much Leo hated it when he just left. But what else was he supposed to do? When he and Leo got in a fight, it was as he just couldn't win. He knew he wasn't as smart as Leo was, at least in some sense. Leo just had more control of himself. Either that, or he didn't even need control, he just never got as angry as Raph. He would be angry with Leo, and, in his head, he would know why, but then wouldn't be able to get it out in words. As opposed to Leo, who always knew just what to say to get under his skin - to drive his point home like a nail. And his point always seemed to be just how stupid and immature Raph was acting. It felt like all he could do was be louder then Leo, to yell more, to intimidate him. But that never worked. After a fight like that, he felt suffocated in the sewer, he'd go crazy if he stayed. So he left. It seemed like anytime he felt any extreme emotion - anger, sadness, frustration - all he wanted was to be alone, so he could figure it out on his own, and all anyone else wanted to do was talk it out. There was another reason he had to escape the sewers - to get away from all the talking. Mikey wanted to talk it out with him, to tell him that he was acting immature and stupid, but it was okay to act that way. He loved his brother, but he couldn't stomach talk like that. Donny was the only one who never tried to get him to talk. Don liked being alone just as much as Raph did, and for that reason, Raph could relate to him. But, for the same reason, he couldn't talk to Don about his problems. It would be strange. Plus, Don would probably just quote him some Freudian philosophy about the chronically immature, something wildly technical that Raph wouldn't even begin to understand. So he just left. He didn't understand why Leo couldn't just accept it. He wasn't hurting anybody by going, and he could take care of himself just as well as any of his brothers could.  
  
Raph let out a heavy breath, rolling over onto his side. He hated it when he got started on those kinds of thoughts. Things were just the way they were, that's how life was, no reason to get upset. Self-pity wouldn't get him anywhere. No, it would get him somewhere, just not somewhere he wanted to be. He'd end up like Auda, trapped in the bottom of a million bottles. The minute he had that thought, he felt ashamed, as if he'd insulted her, as if she would know he thought it. If she did, she probably wouldn't be offended. She'd probably agree.  
  
The next day.  
  
Here's the situation: I was at the club bar, I had a massive headache/hangover, and the bartender was ignoring me like the bastard he was. I almost felt betrayed, I was his best customer, he should've loved me more then his own mother. Especially since his mother kicked him out of the house when he was fifteen. He and I used to talk, back when I first came to the club and didn't know anyone. Hell, I still didn't know anyone, but at least now, it's by choice.  
  
"Hey Charlie! Some service?" I called, trying to be heard over the din of music. As expected, he just waved me off. Fine. I tried a different approach.  
  
"Hey motherfucker! Get your ass over here!" he gave me the finger, but didn't come over. So much for that. It was time for my tried and true last-ditch effort. I got comfortable on the bar, and, one by one, threw all the beer nuts I could get my hands on at him. Fortunately, no one here eats the nuts, so I had plenty of ammo. Eventually, he'd get annoyed enough to come over.  
  
Thankfully, Charlie annoyed easily. Slamming his hand on the bar in front of me, he said, through clenched teeth, "What do you want?"  
  
"A house in the burbs, a golf playing hubby and three-point-five kids. And a dog. I want a dog." I answered, with a smart-ass smile on my face. He just shook his head, pouring me three shots of tequila. We always went through the same song and dance; he knew what I wanted all along. I watched the amber liquid pour into the three tiny glasses, my mouth watering. He finished, leaving the bottle for me. I quickly downed the three shots, and all I could think of as they burned by throat is how much I adore tequila. I could practically feel my senses dulling as I did two more shots. I stared at the bottle, wondering how many shots were in it. Why not find out? I poured and drank shots until the bottle was nearly empty. Now I'm ready to do what I came here for in the first place. I was ready for my night to really start. I happened to know that Charlie dealt cocaine from behind the bar, and, that night, he happened to have a lot on him.  
  
"Charlie, c'mere!" I yelled. It wasn't as busy as it was before, and he came over fairly quickly.  
  
"What now?" he asked, picked up the empty bottle "Jesus, you drank it all?"  
  
I just nodded. That's not what I want to talk about. "Charlie, do you have any blow?"  
  
He leaned in closer to me "Not so loud, huh? Yeah, I've got some." He gave me the once over "But you can't pay."  
  
"You're right. I can't. But I think you're going to give me what you've got."  
  
"Why? I let you drink all my tequila, but my cocaine is a different story."  
  
I smiled with what I hoped was sweetness. "Charlie, you know I'm not above blackmail to get what I want."  
  
He nodded, suspicious. "It wouldn't surprise me."  
  
"If you give me enough blow for the week, I won't tell Vince about your little activities with his son." I grinned. I'd been holding that trump card for months.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked.  
  
"You know as well as I do, but if you're going to make me say it in plain words, fine. I was out in the alley puking when you brought Vince's son out there with a joint and then." I searched for the perfect wording, grinning when I found it "made him your bitch."  
  
I could tell Charlie wanted to argue, to deny it, but he knew it was true, and he knew he couldn't trust me with this. My loyalties used to run deep for the people I cared about, but my priorities had changed.  
  
"Fine, you little bitch." He went under the bar, rummaging around. My little tidbit was the perfect piece of information. Charlie was vehemently in the closet, which was wise, considering all the neo-Nazis that frequent this fine establishment. Plus, Vince, the owner, didn't even know his son came here, not to mention get fucked by the fortysomething bartender.  
  
Charlie came back, setting a manila envelope on the bar. "This is everything I have on me."  
  
"Thank you." I smiled, taking the envelope. It was deliciously heavy. I walked away from Charlie, straight to the bathroom. There weren't many people in there; except for a stall filled with two girls who, judging by the noises they were making, weren't coming out any time soon, it was empty. I locked the door of the stall behind me, sitting on the toilet. Tilting the envelope down, I poured two lines of coke onto the flat top of the toilet paper dispenser, quickly snorting them and pouring two more. After those were gone, I quickly poured two more. I stopped feeling the world around me, the only thing I thought about was pouring and snorting. One hit had felt amazing; twenty would feel even better when I get there. Maybe I already had; I had stopped counting when all the hits started blending together. After what seemed like a blissful forever, I fell back to lean on the wall. I couldn't feel a thing, and I didn't care. I was floating - out of my dingy, skinny body, above the smoke, the terrible music and the hopeless people that filled the space behind me. The pounding drums and raging guitars I used to love and had grown to hate faded away. I was above it all, and, finally, after all those years spent curled in a ball on the floor, I was out of that place. It had all faded to gray, and, under the influence of the only thing I love, all the things about my life I hated were gone, replaced with nothing more than numb awareness.  
  
***  
  
Raph let himself down to the alley shadows, casting a gaze up and down the alley, looking for Auda. She wasn't there, which worried him a little. She was almost always out there. Pushing the worry away, he leaned against the wall, watching the heavy iron door that lead to the inside of the club. Within moments of his arrival, the door creaked open a crack, Auda falling out of the doorway the minute she let go of the door's support. Raph watched as she laboriously righted herself, stumbling to her now familiar place on the alley wall. She didn't puke though, just collapsed against the wall, a manila envelope clutched in her thin fingers. She was drunker then he'd ever seen her. There was something different about her tonight, something he couldn't put his finger on. She began to look around, obvious panic growing in her as she searched for something, her emotions spiking up and then, just as quickly, back down when she found a flat piece of sturdy cardboard. Balancing in on her knees, she tipped the envelope she was holding, pouring out a small amount of white powder onto it. Understanding dawned on him as he watched her prepare to take a hit. It was cocaine. She was high. She didn't even bother to arrange it into lines, just began to lower her head.  
  
"Auda!" Raph called, stopping her. Startled, she tipped the cardboard from her knees. Immediately, she scrambled for it, touching her fingers unbelievingly to the powder on the wet pavement.  
  
"Jesus Raphael, what the fuck!?" her voice was high and raw. She looked up, searching for him in the shadows. He met her gaze, and immediately looked away. Her eyes were wild and unfocused, darting from place to place, red and bloodshot. In the back of his mind, he'd known she did this, but he'd hoped never to have to see it.  
  
"Auda, don't do it." He said, hating how much he sounded like Leo. He didn't believe in omens or signs, but, for some reason, he was terrified for her.  
  
"Don't do what? Snort anymore?" she was sitting cross-legged on the alley floor "Well you can just fuck off!" she laughed at her own joke, the harsh sound splitting the air.  
  
"I've got a bad feeling about this." He said, trying to hide his growing panic.  
  
"Calm down, I'm a pro." Again, she laughed, pouring the powder into her cupped hand, raising it to her nose.  
  
"No!" he jumped out of the shadows, grabbing her wrist and forcing it to one side. They both froze as she looked up at him from she sat on the ground, her eyes widening. Oh, shit! Raph thought. This wasn't how he wanted her to see him for the first time. Too late for that now. Auda looked him up and down "What are you?"  
  
He dropped his hand from her wrist. As he looked at her red, unfocused eyes, he received some bitter relief. There was no way she'd remember this tomorrow. Kneeling down across from her, he answered her simply. "I'm a turtle."  
  
"A turtle?" she asked, unbelievingly. He nodded, and she erupted in rough laughter. He flinched at the sound. "This is the strangest hallucination."  
  
So she thought she was hallucinating. He had no reason to correct her. "Auda, let me." he reached out and touched his fingertips to her neck. Her pulse was racing. However much cocaine she'd had was too much. Already, her eyes were dilated as large as they would go, and her breath came too quickly. "You need to go to a hospital."  
  
"A hospital? Why?" the idea seemed just as funny to her as his being a turtle had been.  
  
"Because." He answered. He'd seen people O.D. before, and he wouldn't let that happen to her. There was no way she'd survive it. Again, he wrapped his hand around her wrist, trying to ignore how skeletal it felt, and pushed her cocaine filled hand away.  
  
Her eyes followed her hand, and she glanced from it to Raphael. In a quick, panicked move, she pulled her legs out from under her and kicked out, catching him full in the chest. It was his surprise more than her strength that knocked him onto his back. He scrambled up, but it was too late, she already had her hand to her face.  
  
"Auda! No!" he yelled, but it was too late. She'd snorted most of what was left before he knocked her hand aside. The rest of the powder flew to the wind, but she didn't even notice. She fell back on the wall, her eyes focused on things only she could see. Raph grabbed her arms, bringing her body forward from the wall. Her head lolled back on her shoulders, her body limp. The only thing holding her up was him. He called her name again and again, shaking her thin frame, but there was no response. He took her pulse again, and it was even faster than it had been the first time. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breathing quick and shallow. Suddenly, her body seized up, and choking noises gurgled from her throat, then, nothing. She stopped breathing. She'd done was he was always afraid she would - overdosed. Now she was in cardiac arrest.  
  
"No! Auda, no!" he laid her on her back, tilting her head up. He opened her mouth and pinched her nose shut, ignoring the blood that dripped from it. Lowering his mouth to hers, he breathed oxygen into her, stopping to pump her chest, one, two, three times, then back to her mouth. He repeated this over and over, losing count of the times he'd breathed into her, just knowing he wouldn't stop until she breathed again. Suddenly, her entire body convulsed as she started to cough. Raph let himself fall back on his haunches as she curled up on her side, coughing. The worst was gone, but she wasn't completely out of trouble yet. He watched her, thinking of how he was going to get her to a hospital without anyone seeing him. He thought of calling an ambulance and leaving her there, but scrapped that idea almost as quickly as he'd come up with it. There was no way he was leaving her alone.  
  
Those thoughts disappeared from his head as she rolled over to face him. Realizing she was shivering, he carefully reached for her, holding her against his chest. She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking up at him. The look of pain on her face tore him up. She looked like a kicked puppy. "Raphael." she said, her eyes misting over. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned into his shoulder, hiding her face. He held her to him, letting her cry until she fell deeply asleep. Raph let out a heavy sigh. After the few minutes - God, had it only been a few minutes? - of intensity he'd just been through, the alley seemed, if anything, serene. Looking down at the tiny woman in his arms, feeling her negligible weight against his chest, one thing passed through his head. What was he going to do with her? 


	3. Chapter Three

"Mom?" I call, walking into the house, dropping my backpack on the floor inside the door. Weird, she's usually home after school. Oh well, maybe she went grocery shopping; God knows we desperately need it. I walk farther into the house, on the way to my room. I pass the door to the basement, where my sister's room is. I hear noises, like fighting. I know I shouldn't, but I stand next to the cracked open door, listening.  
  
"You said you loved me!" a man's voice. My sister's boyfriend.  
  
"I do love you Rich. You know I do, but I just don't feel ready." She replies.  
  
"Fuck that! What more do you need? We love each other for Christ's sake!"  
  
"I know, but I don't want to."  
  
"What do I have to do? Get down on my knees and beg?"  
  
"It has nothing to do with you! I just don't want to!"  
  
"Nothing to do with me? Who else does it have to do with?" his voice is menacing.  
  
"Me! Just me!" I can hear tears in her voice. She can never stand up to him. "You know, yelling at me like this isn't going to make me want you. You're such a fucking prick!"  
  
"What? What did you call me?" I can hear her shriek, I hear a struggle.  
  
"Rich, get your hands off me! Stop! Rich, stop!" I hear a sharp crack - she slaps him. A moment later, I hear heavy boots on the stairs, and the door slams open, knocking me backwards onto the hallway floor. Rich - six feet tall and built like the quarterback he was in high school - glances at me, but keeps walking, leaving out the front door. A moment later my sister runs up. When she sees me there, she asks, "How much did you hear?"  
  
"I heard I lot that I don't understand."  
  
"Good. Don't-" she bites her lip, glances out the open door "don't tell Mom, okay?"  
  
I nod, and she starts to leave, to go after him. "Hope!" I call after her. She turns around. "Don't go with him."  
  
"Why? This fight was nothing, don't worry." She tries to comfort me, even though I can see her shaking from here. He scares her just as much as he pisses me off.  
  
"Don't go. I have a terrible feeling about him, especially right now. If you go. I'm just really scared for you."  
  
"You and your feelings. What are you psychic? No, you aren't. So just keep it to yourself and don't tell me what to do when you don't even understand." She spits out the words, then turns and runs out the door after Rich. I can hear her calling to him outside, he's been waiting in his car. I jump up and throw the curtains aside, watching as she gets in the passenger side. She's been alone with him a million times, even after fights. But now is different. She doesn't know what she's doing, for some reason she can't see it. I can feel my heart beating faster, my breath is short - I'm terrified for her. God, I know she's going to get hurt! I don't know what to do! What do I do!?  
  
Auda gasped as she woke, her eyes shooting open. Her breath came quickly as she tried to recover from whatever nightmare she'd been having. Once she realized she was awake, she just shook her head, yawning, flinching as it sparked a sharp pain in her head. Waking up always left her one of two ways - panicing or on the verge of crying - without fail. Those thoughts flitted away as her head began to pound. Headaches were the other thing that always came after sleep. The heavy, pulsing pain wasn't unusual. It felt different than it always had before, but she didn't stop to analyze the change. What was unusual was the conspicuous lack of obnoxious music and low hanging cigarette smoke. Wherever she was, it wasn't her usual bed; namely, the floor of the club. Fuck, she thought, someone must have brought me upstairs.  
  
She cursed inwardly, not wanting them to know she was awake. Now she'd have to go past the manager and his old (read: washed-up and bitter) punk posse, with their condescending looks. They all looked at her with all their been there done that attitudes, as if only she had their wisdom and experience she wouldn't be passed out on the floor to begin with. They looked her the way a self-sacrificing grandparent looked at a child doing something stupid. Sleeping on a sticky cement floor in a dark room surrounded by angry and aggressive teenagers, like she usually did, was better then being looked at like that. The one thing she hated more than anything else in the world was to be made to feel naïve, as if she was a fool  
  
She considered feigning sleep until the manager and his friends left, but quickly rejected that idea. They might stay all night, and, here's the clincher, they were between her and the bar. Shakily, she stood, ignoring the pain in her head, because she knew the minute she got downstairs and started doing shots it would go away. As she stood, she felt a strange numbness in her hand, and, as she stepped away, something tugged it back toward the bed. Unable to see what it was in the darkness, she ignored it, taking a step and immediately cracked her kneecaps on something. "Ow! Motherfucker." she whispered. When did they move the furniture in here?  
  
She heard scuffling sounds, and the light snapped on. When this happened, she realized two things at once. One, she was not in the manager's office, nor any other place she had ever seen before. Two, she was standing not more then four feet from what appeared to be an upright, muscle-bound, and oddly familiar, five foot tall turtle.  
  
***  
  
Raphael's mind was a whirl of thoughts as he stood there in front of her. He felt completely unprepared for this, whatever this was. He'd brought her back here purely on instinct, and now that she was here, and awake, he didn't know what to do with her. Or even, on a more immediate basis, what to say. He hadn't meant for this to be the way she saw him for the first time. She, for some reason, didn't seem as panicked as he felt. She seemed more confused than anything else.  
  
"Do you have any aspirin?" she asked, oddly resigned. "My head is killing me."  
  
He nodded, even more confused. "Yeah, hold on." He walked out of the room, into the bathroom, and grabbed the little bottle of aspirin. Shaking his head as he returned, he gathered his thoughts about him. This girl wakes up in a place she's never seen before, with no idea how she got there, there's a mutant turtle standing in front of her, and the first thing she thinks of is her headache. In-fucking-credible. He walked back in the room, tossing her the bottle. She reached out and clumsily caught it in both hands, struggling with the childproof cap. Finally getting it off, she poured four pills into her hand and tossed them back dry. He watched as they went down hard, flinching at her guttural coughing.  
  
"Thanks. God, you have no idea how much my head is killing me." She mumbled, looking around. She sat on the side of the bed, glancing down over herself. She was wearing the same clothes she'd been in when she overdosed - a plain, mid-thigh length black slip dress and fishnets, her combat boots and beat up leather jacket tossed at the foot of the bed, where they'd been since she first came in. She noticed the IV in her hand for the first time, and looked accusingly up at Raph. "What the fuck is this?"  
  
"An IV." He answered. "You've been sick."  
  
"Sick?" she was confused. "I never get sick." "Yeah, well that's what happens when -" he was cut off when Mike opened the door, stepping in.  
  
"I heard voices." he said, glancing at Raph and quickly moving to Auda's side. "You're awake!" he sounded cheerful, but Raph could tell it was hesitant. It had been like living in limbo waiting for her to wake up. While she slept, and recovered, Leo would let her stay, no questions asked. But when she was fully recovered, the heat would go way up, and they were all waiting for it. They hadn't even talked about it. It was as if the family was trying to pretend she wasn't there.  
  
"Who are you?" She asked warily, leaning away as he stepped closer.  
  
"I'm Michelangelo, Raph's brother." Mike said, gesturing to his brother and smiling "Hi."  
  
She didn't answer, just looked up at Raph. "You're Raphael?"  
  
He nodded. He'd forgotten she didn't know anything more than his voice. Or, more correctly, she did, and just didn't remember. "Yeah. It's me."  
  
She scrutinized him. "For some reason, I'm not shocked."  
  
You aren't shocked because you already knew. You just don't remember. Raph shook his head as she looked down at Mike, who'd knelt next to the bed. He watched as Mike checked the IV in her hand. He reached to check her pulse, but she jerked her head away. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her eyes wide.  
  
"Woah, it's okay." Mike said carefully "I just want to take your pulse."  
  
She looked unconvinced, but let him take her pulse. He stood after a moment. "You seem fine, but you're still recovering. Don't exert yourself." He glanced meaningfully back at Raph. Raph just let out a mental sigh. Mike still thought that he and Auda were sleeping together - that she was his 'secret girlfriend'. The thought couldn't have been farther from the truth, but Mike was stubborn.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Mike asked.  
  
Auda seemed to consider it. After a moment, she nodded. "Yeah, I could eat." Mike nodded and headed out of the room, promising to be back with food.  
  
The room was silent as Mike left. Auda scooted back on the bed, leaning against the wall behind it. She let her head fall back onto it. "You never told me you had a brother."  
  
"Brothers. There's three of them." Raph replied, sinking back in the chair he'd been sleeping in before she woke. "You'll meet them eventually. Especially now that Mike knows you're awake." He added sarcastically.  
  
"Is this your home?" she asked, bringing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her kneecaps.  
  
He nodded as a reply. She looked off into space for a minute before asking her next question.  
  
"What did your brother mean when he said I'm 'recovering'?"  
  
Raph leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He couldn't think of how to say this. Finally, he decided on simplicity. "You overdosed on cocaine."  
  
"Oh." She said, quietly, processing the information. Without looking up, she asked, "How bad was it?"  
  
Raph silently groaned. He did not want to have to relive this. "I don't know how much you had already had, but when you came out in the alley you just took one huge hit and went into cardiac arrest. I gave you CPR until you came out of it. Then brought you here."  
  
"Why not a hospital?" she asked.  
  
"What was I supposed to do, carry you in myself? I think they'd be more interested in me than in you." He answered.  
  
She just nodded, as if she hadn't really heard him. There was a long silence; long enough that Raph started to wonder if she'd fallen asleep. When she spoke, it startled him. "You saved my life?" it was barely a question.  
  
He paused before he answered, and she finally looked up at him. Her gaze locked with his, and he almost recoiled. Her eyes were so pale a color as to seem almost white. It was a strange affect, especially with her skin so light, and the rest of her so dark. "Yeah, I guess I did."  
  
Her lips twitched up in a cynical smile "My hero."  
  
Raph snorted derisively. He'd saved an overdosing cocaine fiend. He was a 'hero' all right. He was saved the awkward silence when Mike walked back in, carrying a tray of food. Auda readily accepted it, straightening out her legs so he could lay the tray in her lap. She bent her head over the bowl of soup he'd brought, lifting the spoon to her mouth. Again, the corners of her mouth again twitched up when she tasted what he'd made her. "Chicken soup?"  
  
"Straight from the can." Mike grinned.  
  
"Sparing no expense, I see." she said sarcastically. Mike laughed, if a little hesitantly. It wasn't completely clear whether or not she was joking. Raph almost smiled. It would take some time for his brothers to get to know her, and she wasn't going to make it easy. If there was one thing he knew for sure about Auda was that she didn't hold back on the more extreme aspects of her personality. When you met her, you met her full on swearing, cynical, drug abusing self, no holds barred. That was not going to help her when Leo decided to make his appearance.  
  
"Yeah well, I'm a turtle of limited means." He replied, smiling, giving her the benefit of the doubt.  
  
She just nodded, giving up any pretense of conversation as she tucked in to the soup and bread he'd brought. With a glance from her to Raph, Mike took a step away from the bed "I'm gunna go to bed. If you need anything."  
  
Again, she nodded, not even looking up. Mike turned walked to the door, gesturing discreetly for Raph to follow him.  
  
When they were both outside to room, the door shut behind them, Mike crossed his arms over his chest and asked "Is she always like that?"  
  
"Like what?" Raph asked, uncomfortable. His brothers didn't know that he'd only known her for a week.  
  
"Cold, unfriendly, guarded - pick your favorite." Mike answered. "It's not going to help things if she alienates herself from us."  
  
Raph nodded "I know. But think about what she's been through in the past week. She almost died, and then she wakes up with a bunch of turtles playing nurse? She's just a little shell shocked."  
  
Mike let his arms down "I can understand that, but she doesn't seem shocked, just aloof."  
  
"Don't worry so much Mikey. Shit'll work out." Raph said, making movements to go back in the room. There wasn't much she could do to herself, but he still didn't like leaving her alone.  
  
"Yeah. I guess everybody deals their own way." Glancing at the door, he added, "But Leo already doesn't like her, and he's never even talked to her. If their first meeting is her being sarcastic and cold-shouldered. it won't help her cause."  
  
"I know. Believe me, I know." Raph said, stretching his neck from side to side.  
  
"Aright bro. Get some sleep." Mike said, squeezing his brother's shoulder as he walked away.  
  
Raph glanced after him before heading into his room. He'd love to get some sleep, but it wasn't going to happen. He and his brothers had been taking turns watching her, and he wouldn't be relieved for another few hours.  
  
"Welcome back." Auda said, tearing a piece of bread from the chunk Mike had brought "Have a nice pow-wow?"  
  
"Yeah, great." He answered absentmindedly, sinking back into his chair. If she noticed the lack of energy in his reply, she didn't say anything. Slowly chewing on the bread, she stared blankly at the wall in front of her, lost in thought. Raph examined her, for the first time allowing himself to think about how life was going to be now that she was here. Physically, she'd be able to leave the next day, but there was no way he was letting her go that quickly. She'd just go right back to that fucking club, this whole thing would happen again, and he might not be around the next time. So she'd have to stay until he was convinced she wouldn't go back, and he wouldn't be convinced until she'd kicked all her addictions, however many there were. And even then, she had no other place to go. Fuck, now that he was thinking things out, her stay was indefinitate, whether either or them liked it or not. Leo must have seen all that the minute he saw her - he knew what a struggle Raph had just thrown them in to. Whether he liked it or not, she was his responsibility, and he was in this for the long haul. As he sat there, staring at the ragged looking, rail thin, ghost pale shadow of a human on his bed, he wasn't at all sure he was ready for it. 


End file.
